In the Arms of a Wolf
by F-M Fan
Summary: Harry/Fenrir oneshot collection. WARNINGS: Lemon & lots of FLUFF !
1. Love Note

**Disclaimer:** **I do NOT own Harry Potter, or any of its characters. **

One: _Love Note_

It was troubling, really.

Fenrir let out a quiet breath as he shifted, the large, king-sized bed creaking under his weight. The deep, burgundy sheets pooled low around his waist, and the cool air coming from the air conditioner blew steadily against the bare, olive-toned skin of his chest.

"…hn…" He grunted, staring down at the object of all his troubles once again. The green-eyed pup had left in such a hurry after they'd finished, he definitely dropped it on his way out. Small, pink, and lined with tiny, red and white hearts, the envelope lying on top of his lap was most definitely a love note. He'd have been able to tell it was, even if it didn't have the word _'beloved'_ written on top of it in curly, fancy writing.

Leaning back against the headboard, the massive man was very much tempted to just rip the paper into tiny little pieces. However, he quickly stopped himself, stilling his fingers as they poised themselves on each end of the envelope. It was none of his business who Harry liked. They were just casual fuck buddies. It didn't really matter if the smaller male wanted to call it quits. Really, it didn't. Neither of them were in it for the long run, so what was the problem?

Well, Fenrir knew what the problem was fully well. He was _never_ the type who shared what was his. And that's exactly what Harry was. _His._ It didn't matter that they weren't "exclusive". _He was_ the only one who could kiss those soft, oh-so-kissable pink lips, to bite and nip at them until they were swollen and red. _He_ was the only one that could make the boy writhe beneath him in pleasure. The thought of anyone else even _looking_ Harry in any sort of non-platonic way made his blood boil.

Running a large, calloused hand through his hair, Fenrir tossed the envelope onto his bedside table, and laid back against his pillows. He laced his hands together behind his head, and stared up at the ceiling.

"Dammit…" He grumbled, his piercing, blue eyes drifting closed as drowsiness slowly overtook him, "…when did I get so fucking soft?"

**-x-x-x-x-BREAK-x-x-x-x-**

Harry fidgeted, shifting his weight onto his other leg as he straightened his clothes and combed his fingers through his thick, unruly black hair. His cheeks were a bright, appealing shade of reddish-pink, and his jade green eyes appeared even larger behind his thick glasses. As he waited outside the door leading into Fenrir's apartment, his fingers fiddled with the hem of his sweater, which was rather large, and made him look as if he was being swallowed up by the light brown material.

It wasn't like Fenrir at all, calling him over in the middle of the day. Usually the older man called him much later, around early evening, since Fenrir didn't really get much sleep what with his type of work and all. After a few more minutes of waiting, Harry looked nervously around before leaning forward and knocking on the door once again. He definitely didn't mishear the man when he'd called him. Glancing at his watch, Harry jumped up in surprise, a small yelp leaving his lips as the door swung open to reveal a large, scruffy, grumpy-looking Fenrir.

The man examined him with those pale blue eyes of his that never failed to make his heart skip a beat. With a grunt, Fenrir stepped aside to make room for Harry to get through the doorway and nodded in his living room's direction.

"A-ah…" Harry mumbled, his cheeks burning a little bit brighter as he nodded quickly, and brushed passed the man. He kept his eyes on the ground, avoiding the intense gaze as he walked into the apartment. The scowl that formed momentarily on Fenrir's lips went unnoticed, and soon, it melted back into a look of indifference.

Awkwardly, Harry settled himself down on the very edge of the large, leather couch, placing his small hands on top of his knees. "So…" He began, glancing quickly in the other's direction, "…did you need something from me?" His fingers began to tap nervously on his knees as the spot on the couch beside him dipped beneath the large amount of weight. Fenrir's presence was almost overwhelming, and even more so when he was this close to him, with their legs almost brushing against each other. Nevertheless, the smaller of the two wasn't very fond of the heavy silence between them, and pressed on. "You rarely ever call m—!"

Large, jade green eyes widened as suddenly, a pair of slightly chapped lips captured his in a possessive, hungry kiss. He was pulled close into a hard, muscular chest, large arms wrapping tightly around his waist. Taking advantage of his shocked, parted lips, a skilled tongue slipped inside his mouth, exploring every surface of the moist cavern expertly, as it had many times before. His eyes fluttering closed, Harry lifted his arms and wrapped them around Fenrir's thick neck, his hands burying themselves in coarse, graying hair.

"Nngh…" He moaned as Fenrir bit down on his bottom lip, allowing a small amount of blood to seep through. He felt a shiver run down his spine as one large, rough hand slipped beneath his shirt and began teasing a pale, hardened nipple. As the man pulled away from him, Harry mewled as another hand found its way to somewhere much lower, teasing his arousal through his suddenly much tighter jeans. "…Fenrir…_please…_" the boy mumbled, his eyes meeting Fenrir's momentarily, "…don't…"

"'Don't'?" The other echoed, an amused smile spreading over his thin lips, "Don't what?"

"You…you _know_…" Harry's flush deepened, his eyes focused to the side.

And he did. Very well. He would've even prolonged his light teasing, if he didn't feel so impatient already.

**-x-x-x-x-BREAK-x-x-x-x-**

Somehow, both of them had ended up in Fenrir's bedroom.

Fenrir was leaning back against the headboard with Harry curled up against his side, one pale, thin arm slung over his waist. The silence between them was no longer awkward. It was sated, comfortable.

Harry drew imaginary circles on his chiseled abdomen with his forefinger, while his eyes were closed. His body was entirely relaxed. However it was a little hard to fall into that wonderful, post-coital nap when his lover(?) felt so tense.

He was just about to ask what was wrong when a familiar, pink envelope appeared in front of his face. Shifting his eyes over to Fenrir, who looked a tad disgruntled, Harry's head tilted a little to the side as he put things together. The sudden call in the middle of the day…the unexpectedly rougher-than-usual (though very good) sex…all the new hickeys left all over his neck, chest, and inner thighs… It suddenly became very clear to him.

With a tiny smile, Harry pulled himself up with a bit of difficulty, and plucked the envelope out of the large hand. He leaned back against the headboard as well, keeping his eyes on Fenrir's profile. "Thank you…" He said, his smile widening, "I was looking for this yesterday…it took me a very long time to write it." Harry shrugged, turning the letter over in his hands. "I was really worried that the person I wrote it for would never get the chance to read it."

He couldn't help it. A quiet laugh escaped through his lips as he saw Fenrir's brow furrow, and the scowl on his lips deepen. Pushing himself up more on his arms, Harry planted a chaste kiss on the man's stubbly cheek as he dropped the envelope onto his lap.

"It's for you." Harry said, lying back down in bed as he stared up at Fenrir, whose eyes were wider than he'd ever seen before. The man's mouth hung ever so slightly agape, and his large hands held the envelope as if it were something incredibly fragile. He was _soo_ cute.

"Oops…" Harry murmured, a teasing smile spreading over his lips as Fenrir shot him a half-hearted glare. He must've said that out loud. Laughing once again, he added, "Since I worked hard on that, I want you to read it all the way—!"

Fenrir pulled away from the breath-taking kiss a few moments later, thoroughly enjoying the flushed, flustered look he left on the boy's face afterwards. "Later." He said gruffly as he positioned himself directly over his lover, "there's something I wanna _do_ even more right now…" If it was even possible, Harry felt himself heat up even more as Fenrir moved closer and pressed his lips against his again.

**-x-x-x-x-END-x-x-x-x-**

**A/N: **

That's it~! Anyways, thanks for reading this! No explicit stuff in this chapter…perhaps I'll get into more detail later. ;) Well, I will. xD I really love this pairing…it's one of my absolute favorite HP pairings, and I figured there just weren't enough of it! I hope I got their personalities alright…keeping characters in character has always (and will always be) a top priority for me, so please tell me if I got anything wrong!

Alrighty then…_please leave a review!_ Reviews make me update faster…;3


	2. Do Not Disturb

**Disclaimer:** **I do NOT own Harry Potter, or any of its characters. **

Two: _Do Not Disturb_

"…_mnh…please…Fenrir…please..._" Harry mewled helplessly, his arms wrapped tightly around the werewolf's broad shoulders. His short fingernails dug deeply into the olive-toned skin of his lover's back.

A sadistic smile spread slowly over the larger man's lips. He stared down at with piercing, ice-blue eyes. The glint of pleasure and amusement within them was unmistakable. If Harry was in a coherent state of mind, he would've been a little irritated.

"What do you want, pet?" His voice was a low, deep growl as one of his calloused, clawed hands held onto the boy's hip tightly. He continued thrusting into Harry's tight, hungry hole at the torturously languid pace he'd set minutes before. It was absolutely _maddening_. He wanted release, and he wanted it _now!_

"Y-you…_nngh!..._you _know!_" He writhed beneath the wolf's large, muscular form, struggling against the firm grip on his wrists. Oh, why did he even agree to this in the first place? As the blunt head of Fenrir's large member hit that _very_ special spot in just the right way, Harry felt a hot, white flame engulf his entire being as he arched up into the hard chest above him. That was why.

A slightly pointed tongue peeked out between thin, chapped lips as Fenrir leaned down, teasing the reddened, marked skin of his mate's neck with just the slightest brush of his sharp canines. "No," He murmured, "I don't think I do…" Lust-glazed emerald orbs shifted down to meet with unblinking blue. "You'll have to be more…specific, pet."

If it was even possible, most of Harry's exposed body turned a bright, wonderful shade of red. He groaned, trying to shift his hips to meet with Fenrir's thrusts, but the firm hold on his hip kept him still for the most part.

In…out…in…out…

The pace was. Too. _Slow!_

"_Faster!_" Harry cried out, giving in at last, "…_please, Fenrir…let me come…" _The boy's large, green eyes were glazed over and half-lidded with lust. His face was flushed, covered in a light sheen of sweat, and his perfect, pink lips were delightfully kiss-swollen. The wolf couldn't have refused, even if he wanted to.

Within a blink of an eye, the large man went from slowly thrusting into his pleading lover, to pounding the boy rapidly into oblivion. _Ohh_ yess! A pleasured scream left Harry's lips as his prostate was drilled over and over again. His fingers dragged down his lover's back as his pale legs wrapped around Fenrir's waist. Feral, primal sounds of carnal pleasure spilled from the werewolf's lips as those tight, velvety muscles tightened deliciously around him.

"F…Fenrir…" The boy said breathlessly, "…I'm…I'm g-going to…"

"Cum for me, pet…" Fenrir growled, nipping roughly at his mate's ear.

Tossing his head back, Harry screamed Fenrir's name as his orgasm ripped through his very being. Colors flashed behind his eyes as he felt himself sink deep into his mattress. Quiet mewling sounds left his lips as the wolf continued to thrust into him roughly. With his mate's name on his tongue, Fenrir filled the boy with his seed. Harry moaned at that familiar, pleasant warmth that flooded his insides.

He sighed quietly, contentedly as the large man collapsed on top of him, his forehead lying against the crook of his neck. Running his small hands through damp, gray hair, Harry's eyes were slowly drifting closed when suddenly…

"Harry! Are you alright in there?"

A frown formed on the boy's lips as the voice of his best friend/roommate came muffled through his bedroom door. Shit. He's home already? Before he could scramble to get the two of them somewhat decent, the door swung open. Dammit. He didn't think to lock the door.

Bright red, Harry looked up to meet the gaze of his now scarred-for-life best friend. Ron's face had drained of all color, and he looked as if he'd walked in on his _parents_ doing the nasty. Just as Harry was about to say something, Fenrir sat up. His expression was absolutely neutral, however his eyes were absolutely _smoldering _as he sent the ginger-haired boy a look that said he was definitely not pleased.

"I promise you," Fenrir began slowly, his voice incredibly low, "if you don't close the door and _fuck off_ in the next five seconds, I'll—"

SLAM!

The door was closed instantly, and the werewolf lay back down on top of his small mate as a satisfied smile spread over his lips and the sound of hurried footsteps faded away. Harry, if he weren't glad Ron was gone right now as well, would've definitely had something to say to Fenrir about threatening one of his best friends. However, right now, as he wrapped his arms around the older man, he couldn't exactly bring himself to care.

**A/N:**  
>Hey, guys! So…yeah. I'm not too good with writing lemons, so I hope this was okay! It was hard for me to actually come up with something for some reason…so I decided a nice PWP would work fine! X) Anyways, it's 2am right now…I need sleep!<p>

Please tell me what you think and leave a review~ I'll update sooner that way. ;)


	3. Bug Spray

**Disclaimer:** **I do NOT own Harry Potter, or any of its characters. **

Three: _Bug Spray_

It was a little hard for anyone to try and woo the beautiful, emerald-eyed young man with _that_ in the way.

Conner hid his irritation behind a wide smile as he watched the enormous, gray-brown dog settle down on top of Harry's lap once again. It stared at him with slightly narrowed, ice-blue eyes that seemed to look into his very soul. It made him a little uncomfortable, but what really irritated him was how much attention the dog was getting.

"Oh, Fenrir…" Harry shook his head, even as a fond smile spread over his lips, "…geez…you're way too big!"

_Why don't you just shoo him away, or something?_ Conner grumbled inwardly. It was hard keeping the smile on his face, really, it was. They were supposed to be heading out to dinner soon, but that damn dog seemed to be dead set on keeping its owner from leaving the house.

Leaning forward as Harry began to run his fingers through Fenrir's thick, bushy fur, Conner began, "Uh…Harry…" He said slowly, "…we should get going now…"

For a moment, Conner was _sure_ he saw the overgrown mutt's eyes flash red.

"O-oh!" the boy jumped, his face a little flushed, "I'm sorry…I'll just grab my coat. It'll just take a second!" After a few moments of trying to get Fenrir off of him, the dog finally relented, and slowly climbed off of his owner's lap. He sat down on the floor, his blue eyes focused on his human's date the entire time.

Once Harry disappeared into his bedroom, the entire atmosphere changed. Conner leaned back into the couch as far as he could, holding in a frightened yelp, as the dog lunged at him, jumping up on top of him. His razor sharp teeth were bared in a fierce, intimidating snarl as he growled lowly, his claws digging deep into his skin. Those shocking, blue eyes bore deeply into his, and suddenly, the message Fenrir had been sending him since he'd set foot in small, one-bedroom apartment was clear.

_Stay away from Harry. He's _mine.

"Okay, I'm ready!" Harry rushed out of his room, a large, dark brown coat wrapped around him, "Sorry again for—" He stopped abruptly, mid-sentence, as he took in the fact that Conner was nowhere in sight, and his front door was wide open. With a sigh, he pulled off his coat and put it down beside him as he slumped down on the couch.

Not again.

Was he so terribly uninteresting that no one wanted to stick around long enough to actually get through a whole date? That can't be. He'd had a few conversations with Conner, and they were pretty fun. It wasn't awkward or forced at all! Or maybe it was just that he wasn't attractive? No, that couldn't be it! They'd always come up to him and asked him out. So it wasn't that he was _ugly_. Maybe…slowly, green eyes shifted to meet with blue.

"You don't have anything to do with this…do you?" His eyes narrowed as a small frown formed over his lips. Fenrir wasn't the type of dog that liked to show affection, meaning that he almost never cuddled up to Harry or actively asked for attention. It was only when there were guests in his home that the dog acted up and laid all over him.

Fenrir looked back at him seemingly innocently as he lay down on the floor in front of him, resting his head down on his paws. Shaking his head, Harry stood up and closed his front door. "What am I thinking…?" He grumbled, "…talking to a dog? God…I'm worse off than I thought…" As he retreated into his bedroom, he definitely missed the satisfied look that passed over his dog's face.

**A/N:** Lol just some random thing I wanted to write~ Hopefully I'll get better ideas for my next stories…..;; Anyways, thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

I'll try and update soon. Please leave a review!


	4. Favorite

**Disclaimer:** **I do NOT own Harry Potter, or any of its characters. **

Four: _Favorite_

Harry Potter was a very cold young man.

Everyone who'd ever met the beautiful male was always first stunned by how absolutely breath-taking a sight he was. He was very petite, standing at a height of about 5'4. His emerald eyes were large and distant, framed with thick, black lashes, and the centerpiece of his pale, heart-shaped face. His deep, black hair was no longer as messy as it used to be, but still retained a charming, tousled quality. Soft, pink lips pressed in an unexpressive line, Harry was known to treat his clients with a cool, reserved attitude, like he was talking to an acquaintance, instead of trying to woo them, like a good host was supposed to.

Nevertheless, though he acted subtly as if he would never touch any of the women (and sometimes men) with a ten-foot pole, he was still quite popular with the guests. Many had tried to elicit some sort of reaction out of him. Trying to get him drunk rarely worked, since he would only accept one drink at most. Flirting never got too far with him, either. It seemed as if nothing could ever melt the ice around Harry.

Well, no, that wasn't exactly the case. There was only one person who'd managed to succeed every time where everyone else had failed so terribly. One person who could reduce the green-eyed angel to a cute, blushing, stammering mess.

That person was Fenrir Greyback.

He was the president of a rather large, powerful company. Ruggedly handsome, the man was very large, and _towered_ over the average person. He was notorious for being quite the womanizer, who went out with the occasional pretty boy here and there, and never the same lover for more than a few days. Needless to say, Fenrir was incredibly intimidating, and definitely scary to those who first see him. Surprisingly, this was the type of person that got Harry to let down his defenses and open up. The fact that Fenrir had gotten to actually _touch_ the young man without getting that icy glare of disapproval made quite a few people burn with envy.

Although the people who saw the two together couldn't help but admit that, perhaps, the two were doing some good for each other. News of Fenrir's late-night exploits had all but disappeared from the face of the media, and Harry was starting to be a little friendlier around others. Not by a lot, but the change was noticeable enough.

Whenever the scruffy man arrived at Harry's table for his appointment, it was a simply wonderful sight to see the host's normally indifferent face absolutely light up. His eyes would widen ever so slightly, getting brighter, and his lips would turn up in a wide smile whenever Fenrir sent him that sly grin.

The two mostly kept to themselves during their time together. They didn't order drinks, and they didn't ask for other hosts to come over (nor did they _let_ anyone else come over), like some of the hosts liked to do from time to time. But the two polar opposites were admittedly, adorable together, cuddled up close and speaking to each other quietly. Every once in a while, Fenrir would lean in and say something under his breath that would make Harry turn as red as a tomato and start stuttering like a schoolgirl in love. The president would then chuckle deeply, and pull the boy close.

Being so absorbed in one another, the two rarely ever ended their appointments on time. Some unfortunate host would always have to go over there and remind them that Harry had plenty of other clients to attend to, and that Fenrir would have to leave and come back another time. Of course, the host stuck with this job was the youngest, newest addition to their attractive, little family.

Small, shy, and very quiet, Rowan didn't really have any idea how to break the two up. Once he made it to Harry's table, all he could do was watch the two with wide, dark eyes and a bright red face. Currently, Harry was sitting sideways on Fenrir's lap, arms wrapped around the man's thick neck. His face was buried in the crook of Fenrir's neck as the large man murmured (obviously naughty) things to him. The green-eyed host looked to be shaking, and what Rowan could actually see of his face was a deep shade of reddish-pink. Such physical closeness between a host and a client was usually not allowed, but Harry's table was located towards the back of the club and wasn't entirely visible to the other tables, and Fenrir was a special client (meaning, he paid a lot of money), and so the manager let it slide.

"U…um…excuse me…Mr. Greyback…" Rowan began quietly, fidgeting around on his feet, "…y-your time is up…Mr. Potter h-has to…to get to his o-other clients…" The lovebirds paid no mind to the quiet host, and proceeded to do what they pleased. The young host was at a loss as to what to do next. He was much too shy to actually raise his voice…and Harry's client was so scary…He simply couldn't stand watching such an intimate moment, but he really needed to get this done! Everyone was counting on him, and he didn't want to screw this up, too! Opening his mouth, Rowan began to say the same thing-hopefully louder this time-but couldn't get the words out.

His wide, innocent eyes followed a large hand as it slowly trailed down and took hold of a part of Harry that was (thankfully) concealed by the table. Harry let out a quiet moan, and Rowan shuddered at the sound of Fenrir's deep laugh. Okay, this was definitely too much for him. Scurrying off before he could be scarred by anything else, Rowan was determined to get the manager to take care of this. He just couldn't! He'd rather do all of the host club's dishes for weeks on end than have to take care of separating the two again.

**A/N:** Just another random thing that popped into my head…w I wanted to write this one out, since I really wanted to write something that was fluffy, sweet, and a teeny bit naughty…xD;; This was inspired by an RP I did with a friend of mine, and I thought it would fit pretty well with Harry and Fenrir… Anyways, yeah…thank you for reading~!

I'll update soon. Please leave a review!


	5. Pillow

**Disclaimer:** **I do NOT own Harry Potter, or any of its characters. **

Five: _Pillow_

During nights when the moon was full, Fenrir Greyback could no longer be considered human. On those nights, he transformed into what others called a monster. It was easy for the average person to shrink away in fear at the sight of him. He was—is—rather intimidating. Even seeing him from a distance would send a grown man stock still with fear.

"Goodnight, Fenrir…" The boy smiled as he climbed into bed. With a chaste kiss to a fuzzy forehead, he lay down, and made himself comfortable against the enormous wolf's thick, grayish-brown coat. With a wolf's equivalent to a pleased grin, Fenrir licked at Harry's smooth, pale cheek, nuzzling at his mate's neck.

Harry was the only person to ever get this close to him—he was the only person _allowed_ to be this close. The thought of anyone else being near him made the wolf sick.

With a quiet sigh, Harry soon fell asleep, his breaths evening out. After a few moments of watching his lover peacefully slumber, Fenrir laid his head down on his paws and closed his eyes. Knowing his beloved was warm and safe, tucked securely against him, he slowly drifted off to sleep as well.

**A/N:**

Really, really short, I know! x3 I just wanted to write something sweet... Anyways, yeah.

I'll make sure my next one is longer. XD

Until next time~


	6. Fever

**Disclaimer:** **I do NOT own Harry Potter, or any of its characters. **

Six: _Fever_

"Oh…hey, Ron…um…" Harry opened the door just enough to stick his head out and keep the rest of his body hidden, "I'm kind of busy right now, but you can come—"

"What can you possibly be busy with?" The young Weasley boy fumed, "You never miss out on movies with Hermione and me!" How could Harry possibly ditch them? They always went out on Saturdays! He grew a little more irritated. Ever since Harry and that wolf started going out, the boy slowly began to drift away from them. "You didn't show up today because of Greyback, huh?" Ron mumbled sulkily, a full-blown scowl on his face.

He instantly regretted his words when he saw guilt take over his friend's face. Harry let go of the door, standing up straighter to meet Ron's gaze. A small flush of embarrassment spread over freckled cheeks.

It seemed that all Harry was wearing was an oversized, white button-up shirt that reached only to his mid-thigh, and exposed quite a bit of pale skin. It was definitely not a secret that Fenrir was a possessive bastard, and from what Ron could see, the man made it a point to mark every part of Harry's body at least once. Hickeys and what looked to be bite marks littered the skin of the green-eyed boy's neck, and the area around his thighs.

"…sorry…" At the sound of the soft, apologetic voice, Ron snapped his eyes back up to meet Harry's, a little ashamed that he was actually looking his best friend over. "…I…I'll make sure to hang out with you guys next time," He said with a small smile, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "I _promise_. But today, I really have to—"

"…_Harry_…"

Ron stared with shocked, blue eyes as a pair of large, muscular arms wrapped around his best friend's waist, and an enormous beast of a man clad in only a pair of large pajama pants that hung low on his hips appeared directly behind him. Usually, whenever Fenrir saw the ginger-haired boy, he wore a smug look on his face, and his eyes held that dangerous, savage quality in them, which softened incredibly whenever Harry was around. But now…well, the wolf had definitely seen better days. His olive-toned skin was flushed all over, and his eyes held none of that usual fierceness, only exhaustion and drowsiness.

He was sick.

"Go back to bed," Harry said softly, turning around in his lover's arms, "I'll be right there in a few." He laid a small hand on the larger man's cheek, and Ron was surprised to see a rather vulnerable Fenrir close his eyes, sigh, and lean into the tender touch. He felt incredibly out of place, watching such an intimate moment.

Suddenly, as if finally noticing that they weren't alone, ice-blue eyes opened and glared tiredly at the red-headed nuisance. Ron opened his mouth to say something (he didn't know what, but it was _something)_, but was cut off swiftly by a door slamming in his face. Through the thin, shut door, he heard Harry scolding the wolf quietly. He heard a deep, raspy voice rumble something in reply, and in an instant, Harry was softly cooing comforting words once again.

With a frustrated sigh, Ron shoved his hands into his pockets, and proceeded to walk out of the apartment complex. He'd have to come back to Hermione 'empty handed', and therefore, suffer through another one of her "I told you so" speeches.

**A/N:**

x) Yeeahh…don't know quite what to say right now. I had fun writing this, though, and I really like the idea of Fenrir letting his whole 'macho' thing down when he's sick and all…it's cute. And I'm all about cute. XD;

Anyways…yeah, until next time!


	7. Late

**Disclaimer:** **I do NOT own Harry Potter, or any of its characters. **

Seven: _Late_

"…F—Fenrir…don't…" Harry's face turned a bright shade of pink large, warm hands wrapped around his arms and pulled him back into bed. The man was absolutely _insatiable._ Sometimes (though not really), Harry wished Fenrir wasn't so horny all the time.

He let out a quiet, breathless giggle as he felt a stubbly face nuzzle the crook of his neck. That giggle soon turned into a moan once the innocent nuzzling turned into open-mouthed kisses and rough nipping. He tossed his head back and his mouth opened in a silent scream as Fenrir's long, _thick_ length pushed roughly into him. He was still loose from what their exploits a few hours ago, but it was still quite…uncomfortable.

"…_ngh_…_aaahh_…._please_…_Fen_…" Small hands made their way into coarse, gray hair, gripping the long locks tightly as the wolf pumped in and out of his willing body. "_Aaaahh!" _Harry screamed, a sound filled with pleasure mixed with pain, when sharp canines embedded themselves in the curve of his neck.

Primal growls and grunts were muffled, vibrating against the boy's skin as Fenrir licked the blood clean off of Harry's neck.

"…please_…_stop_…"_ Harry writhed beneath his massive lover, his legs quivering as they wrapped themselves around the man's waist, completely contradicting his request. "I…I need to…_ah!_...to…to go_…" _Even as he begged the wolf to stop and let him out of bed, he clung to the muscular body, holding onto Fenrir as if he were his very last lifeline.

A deep, amused chuckle rumbled within Fenrir's chest, and Harry felt goose bumps pop up all over his skin. "You don't really want me to stop," He rasped, biting down on the boy's ear, "do you, pet?"

"I…I _need…_to go…" Harry whimpered, wrapping his arms around the wolf's thick neck and hiding his flushed face, "…I _can't…_I can't be…late…" He'd promised Ron and Hermione he'd meet up with them for sure. It had been so long since they'd last hung out together, and he finally found the time to go out with them somewhere, and Fenrir just _had_ to do this right now. Though, really, Harry couldn't bring himself to care all that much.

"They'll understand," Fenrir responded with a teasing smirk, thrusting into his lover fast and deep, "We _are_…busy right now…" Quietly, he groaned at the feeling of the impossibly warm, tight channel wrapped around him.

"…_but…I…I…nngghhaahh!" _All thoughts were launched directly out the window. Fenrir had hit that special spot dead on. For a moment, lights flashed behind Harry's tightly-shut eyes, and though his body was already feeling hot, he suddenly felt as if the temperature had just risen a few degrees.

Okay. So maybe Ron and Hermione could wait a little while longer.

"_Mmm! Harder, Fen!" _

Alright. A _long _while.

**A/N:**

I figured I needed to write another lemon-type thing…X) Just to balance things out with all the fluffy nonsense I've been writing. xD I'm practicing, really, I am! I've been practicing at writing better lemons…since I figured Fenrir and Harry have a very…physical relationship. ;)

Anyways….yeeeaaahhh….

Please leave a review!

Until next time~


	8. Birthday Surprise

**Disclaimer:** **I do NOT own Harry Potter, or any of its characters. **

Seven: _Birthday Surprise_

Unruly, raven hair was neatly combed back, a few locks held in place by brightly colored hairclips. A tight, white blouse left a flat, pale midriff exposed, leaving nothing to the imagination, and a short, pleated, plaid skirt ended barely mid-thigh. White thigh-high socks encased slim, pale legs, and petite feet were held inside a pair of black Mary Jane shoes.

Harry James Potter, a _clearly male_ young _man_, was understandably uncomfortable in such a skimpy costume. His face, and the rest of his exposed skin, was a bright shade of embarrassed pink.

"…'Mione…" He began nervously, his hands tugging on the hem of his skirt, "this is…really weird. Do I have to do this?" Shy, green eyes rose to meet unwavering brown. The girl shrugged, brushing a curly, light brown lock of hair behind her ear.

"You don't have to do anything, Harry," Her tone was light as she packed up the rest of her 'supplies'. "But you _did_ ask me for help, and from what I gathered about Fenrir this past year, he would definitely enjoy this." She handed her red-haired boyfriend the large case, which he took with one hand.

"Yep," Ron agreed, his blue eyes twinkling mischievously, "you look great. There's no way Greyback wouldn't like…_this_." He gestured to the scantily clad boy's body, an incredibly amused look on his face.

Harry's blush deepened, and he reached for the blanket folded over the back of the couch. Wrapping it around himself, he sat down on the edge of the couch. He was incredibly glad that his friends were so accepting of his relationship with the wolf. They didn't treat him any differently, and they were even happy for him.

Hermione sat down next to him, wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulders. "No need to be so nervous," She said gently, her hand squeezing his shoulder reassuringly, "I'm sure he'll just be happy to spend today with you, no matter what you're wearing." Harry felt a bit better, and smiled as he put a hand over hers.

"Uh…sorry to interrupt this moment we're all having, but…" Ron tapped his watch, lifting the large suitcase in his hand as he did so, "…didn't you say your boyfriend was coming back around…well…now?"

With wide eyes, Harry looked at his clock, and immediately stood up. Quickly thanking his best, _best_ friends, he pushed the two out the door, closing it promptly behind them. Folding the blanket up again, he placed it on the couch and walked into the bedroom he shared with Fenrir. He placed a hand over his chest, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart.

As Fenrir walked up the stairs (he didn't care for the elevator at all), he paused slightly as he caught sight of two familiar people practically sprinting to the elevator. They seemed to be coming from his and Harry's apartment (of course, who else would they visit here?). He lifted a brow as he took in the large suitcase Weasley carried in one hand. Shrugging it off, he continued on his way. He was incredibly tired. Work was filled with idiots, and all he wanted to do was take his mate in his arms and rest.

Alright. Maybe not just rest.

Hearing the familiar sound of keys jingling and the door being unlocked, Harry scrambled to get everything just right. He undid a few buttons at the color of the white blouse, and straightened his skirt. Oh…only for Fenrir would he do something like this. Fixing up their bed sheets, Harry rearranged the pillows a bit, and then positioned himself in a rather provocative position in the very center of the bed.

"Harry,"

His heart leaped at the very sound of Fenrir's deep voice calling his name. Shutting his eyes tightly, he gripped the backs of his knees tightly, and waited.

It was strange.

Usually Harry was there to greet him whenever he got home. The boy usually got so needy whenever he left for most of the day, and so every time he walked through that door, he always ended up with an armful of eager, affectionate Harry.

He knew the boy was home. It was just weird.

Walking into his bedroom, Fenrir opened his mouth to say something, when he took in the sight of his mate sprawled out on their bed. His legs were spread wide, leaving _everything_ out in the open for his viewing pleasure. His arms were hooked underneath his legs, holding them back, and his upper body was laid back against the pillows. If the position wasn't enough…_oh_, that costume…

Fenrir felt his pants tighten as blood rushed to a much lower location.

As the wolf's eyes darkened, a shiver ran down Harry's spine. With a coy smile, he let go of his legs and held his arms out to the large man, beckoning him forward.

"Happy Birthday, Fenrir…"

No other words (excluding "_…harder, Fenrir…please…faster…!"_) were spoken that afternoon.

**A/N:**

Aaaand that's it~!

The ending is…Harry can't walk or sit properly for at least a week, and Fenrir stashed the costume away somewhere safe…for a rainy day. X) I had lots of fun writing this, so I hope you guys had fun reading it.

Please leave a review!

Until next time~


	9. A Night In

**Disclaimer:** **I do NOT own Harry Potter, or any of its characters. **

Nine: _A Night In _

"Uggghh…I _hate_ this show." Ron whined from where he was sprawled out on the couch, "change the channel, 'Mione!" The bushy-haired brunette wrinkled her nose and frowned.

"You're closer!" She protested, "The remote's _right there._ All you have to do is get off the couch and pick it up."

The redhead stared at her blankly for a few moments, before quickly realizing she wasn't going to budge, and shifting his attention over to his best friend. "_Harry…_" He began, regarding the green-eyed boy with a pleading gaze.

"…sorry, Ron," Harry grinned sheepishly, "kind of busy here." Green eyes slid down and rested upon the gray wolf, which was currently "asleep", resting his head in the boy's lap. Running his small hands through the thick, coarse fur, Harry shrugged as Ron continued to give him _that_ look.

"Oh, come on, Ron," He said, "It's, like, three feet away from you. Besides, you're the only one actually watching what's on TV."

"But—!"

Blue eyes then met with irritated gold. Fenrir's snout twitched and the redhead caught a quick flash of sharp, white teeth. He was familiar with that look. It was the one Fenrir used whenever he walked in on him and Harry in the middle of sex, or when he came over unexpectedly (which he did quite a bit).

Hermione shared an amused look with Harry as Ron finally relented, and pushed himself off of the couch. The ginger-haired boy dragged his feet as he took a few steps towards the coffee table, snatched up the remote, and went back to the couch. There was that small, familiar pout on his lips as he flipped through the channels and tried to find something tolerable to watch for the rest of the evening.

Harry laughed quietly as Fenrir settled back into his lap, and went back to "sleep".

**A/N:**

Sooo short, I know! Sorry. xD; The other chapters'll be longer! :D I've been pretty tired lately, though…so I may start getting a little slower in updating…maybe. I'll hopefully work through it! XD

Anyways…watched the last Harry Potter movie…am kinda sad now. TT_TT But in a way, I'm glad it's over. The ending was a little cheesy, but, of course, I'm just fine with cheesy. :3

Alrighty…until next time~!


	10. Kitty

**Disclaimer:** **I do NOT own Harry Potter, or any of its characters. **

Ten: _Kitty _

"W-what?" The busty blonde's jaw practically fell as she stared at the mountain of a man standing in the doorway. "B-but you said—"

"I changed my mind." He said firmly, his gaze unwavering as he stared into her wide, blue eyes. "Just go home, alright? I don't need you giving me anymore shit about this." With that, he promptly shut the door in her face.

The woman could've sworn she saw that _damn cat_ give her a _look_ as it nuzzled its face against Fenrir's leg.

"And then I just left!" The woman exclaimed, her face flushed as she downed another shot. "I mean, what else _could_ I do?" Her friend clicked her tongue, shaking her head as she ordered another round.

"I _told _you shacking up with Greyback wouldn't get you anywhere!" She rolled her eyes as the blonde simply sputtered and drank more alcohol. "Everyone who's even gone out of him knows that he doesn't put anything above that stupid cat…" Her tone was bitter, as if she'd been speaking from experience. Which she was.

"Oh, shut up." The blonde slumped over the bar, sighing almost dreamily. "He's just…so…so…_hot…" _

Agreeing with a nod, the other woman raised her shot glass.

"Amen, sister."

Back at his apartment, Fenrir scowled to himself as he cleaned up the puddle of vomit left in the hallway by the little bundle of black fur. He grimaced as he got to his feet, and took the soaked rag into the kitchen. As he tossed it in the sink and ran it under hot water, he looked down at the black furball that was suddenly rubbing itself up against his legs and purring.

"What happened?" He grumbled, "you don't look sick anymore. What the fuck was with all the throwing up?" Though he was fully aware Harry was just a cat, he had a feeling that the little ball of fluff understood everything he was saying to him. However, that could just mean that he's a crazy cat guy who cancels dates with hot blondes to take care of his sick cat who he thinks can talk to him.

"That's probably it." He muttered as he shut off the sink and dried his hands off. Sending a half-hearted glare at the cat looking expectantly up at him, Fenrir stepped around Harry and walked into his room. He shut the door behind him, leaving the cat sitting outside his door.

Although Harry hated it when his master was so upset with him, he hated it even more whenever he brought women back to the apartment. He didn't like the way the women his master brought back touched him and carried him like he was a doll to be played with. He _hated _it whenever he saw those same women touch and kiss and embrace the man.

He knew he could never be with Fenrir the way he wants to be, but just having him alone and to himself was enough. Seeing the face the blonde made at the door made him feel a lot better, too.

**A/N:**

Hey guys! I know it's been a freaking long time since I've updated, so if you're reading this right now, thanks for sticking around for so long! I'm sorry for the fail, but I really wanted to write something to get back into writing fanfiction again…. This really isn't my best work, but I'm really tired, school's been kicking my ass, and if I didn't write this out now…then I probably never would have written this at all. XD;;;

Anywayyysss…I hope you guys enjoyed reading this thing! I wanted to make something to contrast the Doggy!Fenrir/Owner!Harry stuff I did earlier. :D

Alrighty, I'll hopefully update more often…

Reviews are love!


	11. Haunted

**Disclaimer:****I do NOT own Harry Potter, or any of its characters.****NOTE:** **Hey, guys! I'm back. :D I hope I'll be able to upload chapters more regularly now that I'm on vacation. ^^ Anyway, I PROMISE I'll get to the requests after this chapter. I just had to write this down before I forgot all about it. Enjoy~**

Eleven: _Haunted_

It had only been two days since Fenrir Greyback moved into his new house, and already, he suspected that his new home was haunted. The creaking floors, the flickering lights, and the sound of footsteps weren't brought up the suspicion. After all, the house was several decades old. No, shit like creepy sounds and all that wouldn't scare him. But the spirit sitting right on the edge of his bed, just a few inches away from him, did creep him out.

Okay, truth be told, Fenrir was scared _shitless_ when he'd opened his eyes and saw the ghost _right there_, looking straight at him. Who wouldn't have been? But after a few moments of still, uncomfortable silence, his fear slowly ebbed away, and was soon replaced with curiosity, and a little bit of…attraction? Yes. The ghost certainly wasn't anything like the malevolent ones he'd seen in horror movies.

The spirit was in the form of a young man, probably in his early twenties. He was a petite, dark-haired specimen whose lithe, lightly-muscled body was covered in a white, almost ethereal glow. His hair was a tousled, pitch black that starkly contrasted against his paper-white skin, and his large, bright eyes were greener than anything Fenrir had ever seen before. He was drawn into those eyes, and it felt as if he was going to drown in them if he didn't stop looking soon.

"_Hello." _

A soft, whisper of a voice broke through the heavy silence. Fenrir felt his heart practically stutter as those full, pale lips turned up ever so slightly. He stared at the spirit for a long time before replying with an equally soft, disbelieving,

"Hey."

The ghost's smile widened just by a fraction, and before Fenrir knew it, he was gone. He stared at the empty space in front of him for just a while longer, and then collapsed back onto his pillows. His wide eyes locked onto the dark ceiling as he tried to process what the hell just happened.

Weeks had passed since the "bedroom incident," and Fenrir was still living in the house.

Sure, there was a ghost in his house, but he wasn't scared. He'd seen what it looked like, and it didn't look scary at all. If anything, it was the prettiest fucking ghost he'd ever seen. So, he stuck it out, and stayed.

After a while, Fenrir was sure he was seeing the ghost more and more often. Not fully, like in his bedroom, but just little glimpses. Sometimes when he was alone in the living room, he'd feel the spot on the couch next to him dip a little, like someone was sitting next to him. Then it would be gone. When he's in the kitchen, he would see a dark spot move in the doorway from the corner of his eye, and again, it would disappear before he got a good look at it.

This would happen a few times every day. Fenrir didn't mind it too much. It was creepy as hell, but as long as it didn't trash his furniture, he could learn to live with it.

**2.**

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

Fenrir grunted in annoyance as he rolled onto his back, and sat up, rubbing his hand over his eyes. "What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?" He grumbled, staring at the blonde woman lying in bed next to him with a face that managed to be both drowsy and pissed off at the same time. The blonde stared right back at him, her face turning a deep, angry red (though it wasn't visible in the dark) as she tugged the sheets up to cover her bare chest.

"I saw _someone_ standing right next to me, _that's _what's wrong with me!" She yelled. Her shrill, incredibly loud, voice made Fenrir regret ever having let her stay the night.

"Just a bad dream," Fenrir assured her sleepily as he closed his eyes, and lay back on his side, facing away from her, "go to sleep." Though as he tried to get back to sleep, he knew she wasn't just dreaming. Someone was standing next to her, and he knew full well who it was. But he wasn't about to tell his one-night-stand that he wasn't the only one living in his house. He'd deal with the ghost in the morning, when he wasn't naked and exhausted, and when there wasn't a now-paranoid blonde next to him.

The blonde frowned deeply, and looked around the room once more. There was no trace of the mystery person she'd seen standing right above her. Perhaps Fenrir was right. She was just dreaming. That's it. She cuddled in close to Fenrir's back (ignoring the disgruntled sound he made at their close proximity), and went to sleep.

"_Is she gone?"_

Fenrir stared at the spirit over the rim of his coffee cup, then went back to reading the newspaper. "Yeah," he replied flatly, "she's gone." The ghost, who, over the past few weeks, he'd come to know as "Harry," nervously left the doorway, and slowly sat down in the empty seat next to Fenrir at the dining table. He didn't need to pull the chair out, he simply sat down, his body going right through the table, but somehow managing to stay atop the chair.

"_Are you mad at me?" _

Harry's ever quiet, sad voice drifted over to him. Fenrir kept his eyes focused on the small, black and white print on the paper. He just knew those large, green eyes were looking at him with that _look_, the one that made him go, "no, I'm not mad at you; don't be sad." Though the young man wasn't even alive, he was the only one Fenrir knew who could manipulate him easily. If Harry wanted to, he could make Fenrir do whatever he wanted (not that the man would ever admit such a thing).

"Hell yeah, I'm fucking mad." Fenrir managed to respond to the question with his usual, gruff, irritated voice. "You think you can just do whatever the hell you want, and I won't care? If you do, you must be fucking stupid."

A small, distressed whimper left Harry's lips. The sound closely resembled that of a kicked puppy. Fenrir's fingers tightened around the edges of his newspaper, causing the paper to crinkle noisily, as he fought the urge to look up once again.

"_I'm sorry. I really am. Please don't hate me!" _Fenrir felt a faint brush of cold, soft fingers against his hand. _"You're the only one I have left…" _Harry sniffled softly, and Fenrir felt the final shred of his self-control snap. Putting the paper away, he placed his hand right over Harry's, gently enough that it didn't just fall through and land on top of his other hand.

He sighed heavily through his nose, and looked directly into the green, green eyes that, somewhere along the way, he'd grown immensely fond of. "I don't hate you," he said, his voice taking on a soft, strangely tender tone only Harry had ever heard before, "and for whatever reason… I can't stay mad at you. No matter how hard I fucking try," he added, muttering the last bit to himself.

Harry nodded, wiping a finger against his eye, and sweeping a little tear away. _"I'm glad," _he said, and for a split second, Fenrir saw those lips tilt up just a little. Fenrir's hand lingered on top of Harry's for another moment before he returned his attention to his paper.

"_Out of everyone who's ever lived here before," _Harry began, snagging Fenrir's attention once again, _"I think I like you the best."_ The larger man's eyes widened as the ghost leaned in, and pressed a cold, barely-a-brush-of-the-lips kiss onto his cheek.

"Hey—!" Before he could say anything, Harry had disappeared. Rubbing his cheek a little, Fenrir grumbled to himself, and flipped to the next page of his paper. Goddamn troublesome ghosts… And though he tried to be annoyed, he simply couldn't. A little smile wormed its way onto his lips, and though he tried to ignore it, he heard a quiet giggle come from the other room.

**3.**

"Aw…are you sure I can't come in?" The blonde (no, not the same one as last time) asked, batting her eyelashes up at him, and pouting. Fenrir held back a little scowl. She had _nothing_ on Harry's pout. "Aren't you lonely? That house is a little big for just one person…"

Fenrir glanced up at the second floor window. A familiar, pale figure stood there, hands pressed against the cool glass, and wide, green eyes staring down at him with a mixture of curiosity and a little sadness.

"Yeah, I'm sure," he said, already stepping back to shut the door, "and just so you know, I have all the company I need." With that, he promptly closed the door. He stayed there for a bit, just until he heard her heels fade into the distance and her car drive away.

"_Was it really okay? Making her leave like that, I mean." _

Harry was standing right behind him, his hands clasped together in front of his chest, his fingers wound together nervously. He stared up at Fenrir, his eyes no longer sad, but still curious, and a little happy, but also unsure.

The look made Fenrir want to smile, but he didn't. "It's my fucking house," he grunted as he brushed past the ghost, and into the living room, "if I wanted her to leave, then she had to fucking leave." As he plopped down onto his couch, and flipped the television on, he didn't notice the utterly pleased look on Harry's face. With a tiny smile, Harry sat down next to him, and allowed himself to lean a little against Fenrir's arm.

"_Alright then. What are we watching?" _

**A/N:**

The end~! Did you guys like it? I know everyone's been asking me to try and write longer stories…so I tried on this one. I didn't write the story in an exactly…chronological order…since I'm not very good at slow development and all that. So you guys can fill in what happened in the spaces. Just know that Fenrir stays with Harry for a very long time. Sorry if you guys were expecting a lemon…I didn't know how to do that, since Harry's a ghost in this one. XD;;;

Anyway, as I said before, I WILL get to the requests soon. I've just had this idea for so long, I didn't want to lose it.

There's always room for more requests, so please leave some if you want.

Reviews keep me going! Thank you~


	12. Husbands Hit Harder

**Disclaimer:****I do NOT own Harry Potter, or any of its characters.**

_"Harry and Fenrir are married, and this guy starts hitting on Harry, but then Harry declares he's married, the guy thinking he won him over says it doesn't matter, then Harry points behind him and says " to him", Fenrir smiles at him and the rest is up to you."_  
>—Elizabeth Stonem<p>

Twelve: _ Husbands Hit Harder_

Conner was kind of an asshole.

As much as Sam loved him that was something she would readily admit if she was ever asked.

She tapped her well-manicured nails on the table impatiently. Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she watched her boyfriend flirt rather blatantly with their _waiter._

Yes, Sam was well-aware of Conner's dating history, and the fact that he was just as comfortable being with men as he was with women. And she was fine with that, but that was because she'd never thought that he would be scoping out men _right in front of her_.

"Ahem_,"_ she cleared her throat, and effectively got their waiter's attention. Conner shifted his eyes over to her as well. He also looked much less interested in what she had to say than what he'd been 'discussing' with the other man.

Okay, scratch the 'kind of.' Conner was _definitely _an asshole.

"Fine," she stood from her seat, and moved to leave the booth, "since you don't seem to want my company, I'm leaving."

"Wait, babe—!" Conner stood up as well, and tried to catch her wrist as she walked past him, but she pulled her hand away.

"Fuck. You." She said, looking him straight in the eyes, and punctuating each word with a sharp jab at his chest. Thoroughly satisfied, she then walked out of the restaurant without a single backward glance.

When she was about a few blocks away, she took a few deep breaths, and stopped for a bit. She was _so_ mad; it was a little hard for her to even think clearly. But then, a thought came to her. She had been so occupied with her dumbass, incredibly _rude_ boyfriend that she didn't realize that she knew that waiter.

After a while, a slow smile spread over her face.

She wouldn't have to kick Conner's ass later after all.

**2.**

Conner was left standing at his seat, mouth hanging wide open as he stared at the door his girlfriend had just walked through.

After a while, he simply shrugged, and sat back down. He'd gotten into little fights with Sam like this before. They always worked their way through it.

There was no use going after her. He would let her cool down first.

He returned his attention back to the adorable waiter—his name was Harry—the one who was currently shifting from one foot to another, rather uncomfortably.

Really, how could Sam blame him for wanting to flirt with Harry?

He was a petite, pale young man with the greenest eyes he'd ever had the pleasure of seeing. His hair was dark and so unruly, it was a little charming. And oh, lord, that _smile_. It was heavenly.

"Um…is she…coming back?" Conner couldn't help but smile at the sound of that soft, albeit nervous, English voice. It was almost like music.

"Nope," he answered, leaning the entire weight of his cheek onto his palm as his eyes roved up and down the length of Harry's body. "But don't worry. I'll be keeping you company." He dropped Harry a sly little wink.

"O-okay…" Harry scratched at the back of his neck, a little more uncomfortable, and not at all sure how to respond to _that_. "I'm just…going to go get your food now."

As the waiter scurried away, Conner treated himself to the sight of a rather appealing, pert backside.

**3.**

"So, Harry, how about we catch a movie or something together?"

Harry set Conner's food down on the table, and when he was done, tapped his fingers against the empty tray anxiously.

"That wouldn't be such a good idea, sir," he frowned, and glanced a little nervously to the table right next to them. "And, if I may add, you should really make up with that girlfriend of yours."

Conner rolled his eyes. Sam would understand. And what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

"Oh, come _on." _He leaned forward, and snatched one of Harry's hands with both of his. He pulled it close, and the waiter stumbled forward a little.

"Uh, sir, I really don't think you should—"

"It's not like you're _with_ anyone, right?" Conner asked him, searching Harry's eyes.

Harry tried desperately to free his hand from the other man's grip, but failed on each attempt. "Uh, well, actually," Harry stammered, his eyes repeatedly going back to the table next to them, "I—I _am_ in a relationship. I'm married, actually,"

Conner faltered at that, and his grip loosened just enough for Harry to slip away. "Y-you're what? _Married?_ Just how old are you?"

Harry flushed at that, a little embarrassed. He looked a bit younger than he actually was, and that had always been a source of insecurity for him.

"That's none of your business." He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Conner shrugged, but wasn't too put off. Dating older people wasn't too bad, and it didn't really matter to him that Harry was married. Hell, he was in a relationship himself. And besides, he didn't know how old Harry was, but however old he was, he looked good.

"So…the one you're married to," he began, "what's he like? You guys happy?"

The younger man stiffened as he heard a low, rumbling noise. It sounded like… like a monster. Conner paled as the man sitting in the next table stood up, and practically _towered_ over him. He swore he could feel the ground shake a little as the huge, mountain of a man walked right in front of him.

He grew even more nervous when he saw Harry smile fondly, and wrap his arms around a tree trunk-like arm.

Conner's blood turned to ice when the waiter's looked at him, and the fond smile turned downright _evil._ "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

The last thing Conner saw was the giant's fist coming right at his face.

Then everything went black.

**4.**

He was unconscious for about two days.

When Conner came to, not only did his face hurt like hell, but somehow, everything else was sore, too.

"Good morning, asshole."

He looked up, startled, but relaxed once he realized it was just Sam. The young woman was sitting in a chair right next to his bed, leafing through a magazine. She had yet to look up at him.

Deciding to sidestep the whole 'asshole' thing, he slowly reached up, and rubbed at his head.

"How long was I out…?" He groaned, "I feel like…I feel like _shit._"

"Two days. And you look _worse_ that shit, by the way." She held back a laugh when she did finally look up, and saw just how bad he was.

He decided to ignore that comment, too.

"D'you know who that guy was?" He asked quietly, practically shuddering at the memory of the giant.

At his tone, Sam knew just who Conner was talking about.

"Yep," Sam answered as she put her magazine away, "that was Harry's hubby." Her immensely pleased grin grew wider once she saw just how fucked up Conner was. "And now that I'm getting a better look at you…he taught you one hell of a lesson, huh?"

Conner wasn't pleased at all. Not one bit. "And what lesson would that be?"

Sam smirked. "Be careful who you hit on…cuz' husbands hit harder."

**End! **

**A/N:** Thanks for your request, Elizabeth! I hope you enjoyed it. I really wanted to include the line, "husbands hit harder," in there, so I spent more time thinking about it than I did actually writing the chapter… so…there you go~

I hope everyone else liked this chapter, too. It was pretty fun writing it.

Anyway, please leave a review!


	13. Slumber Party

**Disclaimer:****I do NOT own Harry Potter, or any of its characters.**

Thirteen: _Slumber Party_

Harry didn't want to call it a "slumber party;" he wasn't a twelve-year-old girl. It was just a little get-together with his friends, who all happened to be female. Harry sighed. The tubs of strawberry ice cream and the bars of chocolate in his shopping basket seemed to disprove his whole argument. When he reached the cash register, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. It was a message from Ginny.

'HURRY UP' it said. Harry rolled his eyes, and then paid for the food that _they_ insisted he go out and buy in the middle of the night. Bags in hand, he walked back to his car, and took his sweet time on the way home. When he got back, he immediately wished he hadn't been so passive aggressive.

Pushing his front door open, Harry couldn't help but be suspicious. His decimated living room, while filled with the scent of nail polish and littered with empty bags of potato chips, was empty. He walked in slowly, and nearly reached the kitchen when he heard giggling coming from down the hall. Taking a deep breath, he set the bags down and followed the noise. Just as he thought, the giggling led him directly to his bedroom at the end of the hallway.

"Alright, what are you doing…?" Harry trailed off. His eyes flew wide open, and it his face exploded with color. "What are you doing?!" He squawked, and rushed across the room in what felt like two steps. The girls were sitting on the floor, crowded around a very familiar, unlabeled box. It had already been opened, and its contents were spread across the floor for anyone to see.

The giggling morphed into full-fledged laughter. Harry scrambled to put everything back in the box. He was nearly done when Ginny leapt to her feet, holding a magazine up over her head. "C'mon, Harry," she said, grinning, "We're finally having some fun around here!" She waved the magazine around. "Who knew you were hiding the good stuff?" Harry walked over and tried to grab it away from her, but she held it out of his reach, holding him back with one hand. He cursed her bizarre strength.

With her other hand, she held the magazine open, and her grin widened when the extra page flipped down, revealing a hidden poster. The image was similar to the others in the magazine. It was of an incredibly muscular man. His face was handsome and angular, with a strong jaw, prominent nose, and sharp eyes. _Those eyes._ The man, like the others, was naked except for the cowboy hat that sat lopsided on his head. He was lying down on grass, his arms (_those arms) _crossed behind his head. His chest was covered in thick, dark hair, and his abdomen was all chiseled muscle. Unfortunately, the picture ended just at the man's waist, revealing a hint of something more, but nothing else. Harry had a love-hate relationship with that picture (mostly love).

Hermione chuckled and reached into the box which Harry had foolishly left in its place on the floor. She pulled out another magazine, which had the same man on the cover. "Harry," she said, "this isn't anything to be embarrassed about." Her voice was calm, but he could tell she was trying not to laugh. "I must admit, I have a few myself."

Luna joined in, "I think these are quite fascinating," she smiled and reached for another magazine, which also had the same man on the cover. "But I thought your collection would have a lot more variety to it…" She turned the page. "Do you think something is special about this man in particular?"

Harry's face turned a deeper shade of red. "What—no—what are you—argh!" He ran his hands roughly through his hair. Ginny was still prancing about with the poster, and the other two didn't look like they were going to stop any time soon. And so he promptly collapsed onto his bed and buried his face in his pillow. "No, I just…" He peeked over his pillow. "I like the way he looks. That's it." Ginny sat back down and hummed in agreement.

"I do, too," she said, waggling her eyebrows.

Hermione laughed. "Seconded."

After the initial wave of embarrassment had settled in, Harry let out a long breath and moved to sit on the floor with the others. Years of friendship allowed him to embrace complete and utter resignation. A comfortable silence, other than the occasional jab from Ginny and the sound of turning pages, settled over them. Then, he remembered.

"I left the ice cream in the kitchen."

In almost an instant, the girls were gone, and Harry was left in the room by himself. He rolled his eyes and put the magazines away. Taking the box, he ignored his usual hiding place (under his bed), and shoved the box into the very back of his closet.

**End. **

**A/N:**

I'M BACK! Hi, everyone! This collection has NOT been abandoned, and since I finally have free time, I will be updating as much as I can! This was just a little thing I wanted to write to let you guys know. Hopefully you guys liked it, even though the Fenrir/Harry element was just implied in this one. I've been just drained by everything going on, but I really wanted to write something to make it up to you guys. (I know this must be filled to the brim with errors, but please bear with me for now-I promise better things and more filled requests!)

Thanks for being so patient and sticking with me! Please leave a review since there's more to come!


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